Operation Vacation!
Taste the good life aboard a power cat charter in the incomparable British Virgin Islands.
Three couples shake the winter doldrums aboard a MarineMax charter in the BVI.
It’s been done a million times before, and it will be done a million times more, because cruising the British Virgin Islands is the stuff dreams are made of. That’s the pitch I used to sway two couples to join my wife, Audrey, and I on a charter in the Caribbean. It was the dead of a dreary New England winter, so our friends were up for the adventure, but even so, it would be challenging for six busy people to carve a week out of their schedules for fun where the trade winds blow and rum flows like water. And then there was the fact that our friends are sailors. When I first told them we’d be cruising on a power catamaran, I sensed a slight lack of enthusiasm, but fortunately, a Boston winter is a mighty motivator. When I assured the group I would navigate and operate the vessel, one couple—Jay and Joanne—happily volunteered to take on the provisioning and galley responsibilities. Steve and Deb promised to keep the jokes and beverages flowing.
Getting there was easy, as the BVI are just a three-hour flight from the mainland. After we landed at Beef Island Airport, we took a 10-minute cab ride to Hodges Creek Marina in Tortola, which is the base for the MarineMax Vacations charter fleet. As welcome drinks were served, we stowed our gear aboard the 443 Sweet Bay and vowed to slow down and set our watches to island time.
There has been a large infusion of power catamarans to the MarineMax fleet over the last few years, and for good reason. These boats are designed specifically for the job: to deliver easy operation in a spacious platform with plenty of creature comforts. In fact, it’s impossible to replicate this much usable living space in a monohull of similar length. Our 43-foot catamaran with a 21-foot beam offered three comfortable en suite staterooms—one in each hull, and a centerline master. Even our 6-foot 3-inch shipmates were pleasantly surprised by the volume and privacy in each cabin.
The next morning, an efficient MarineMax staffer took us through the vessel and reviewed the systems, including watermaker, generator, air conditioning, refrigeration, engines, and navigation suite. Afterward, we were off the dock and, as the song goes, looking for adventure and whatever comes our way.
Officially a British Territory, the BVI encompass 50-plus square miles and more than 50 islands, each with a coastline surrounded by some of the most beautiful water on the planet. However, before we could begin an exploration of the blue depths, we had to make a short cruise to Village Cay Marina in Road Town for provisions at Bobby’s supermarket. The selection
here has improved considerably over the years. Bobby’s, located just a block from the marina, caters to yachtsmen and looks more like a Publix in Ft. Lauderdale than a Caribbean market. It was a one-stop affair for everything we needed. Jay had come prepared for chef duty with a variety of menus, spices, and special utensils. With food and beverages stowed, we were off the dock and heading for the anchorage at Cooper Island.
Under way, the 443 proved a comfortable platform that was a pleasure to operate. And as I would learn, the wide-spaced twin diesels make maneuvering onto a dock or up to a mooring ball precise and effortless. Once at Cooper, Jay turned out a few magnificent BLTs for lunch and Joanne made good use of the blender perfecting her Painkiller recipe.
Steve and Deb had caught the last flight out of Boston just before a storm closed the airport. We met them at the ferry dock on tiny, 8-acre Marina Cay. Here’s where a power cat really works: We were able to be at the appointed meeting spot, but with the ability—and flexibility—to plan around the foibles of island travel. After we picked up the last of our crew, we were able to squeeze in an afternoon of snorkeling on the quiet reef, along with squid, stingrays, and a 4-foot barracuda. At sunset, we made our way to the Happy Arr Bar and then dinner at Pussers.
The next morning, we wanted to make the straight shot from Marina Cay to the Baths on Virgin Gorda, but we knew we had to get there early as there are a lot of boats and only so many moorings. A pot of coffee brewing in the galley was an effective wakeup call. We cranked the engines at 7 a.m. and by 8 we were on the mooring. By 8:05, Jay was serving up French toast, hash browns, sausages, and fruit salad. After a couple of hours spent scrambling around the caves, we were off to the Bitter End Yacht Club, where we planned to dock for the night. With Sweet Bay tied up, we took the tender over to Saba Rock in North Sound, to check out the hotel and bar that nearly covers the entire island. Back at Bitter End, we had dinner at the Clubhouse, where the enormous buffet offers arguably the largest variety of food served in one place in all of the BVI. That evening, we relaxed up on the flybridge of the power cat, sipping Grand Marnier, puffing on Cuban cigars and talking about everything from the meaning of life to our favorite ways to serve lobster.
Twelve miles north of Bitter End is Anegada. The only coral island in the volcanic chain of the Virgins, its elevation is just 28 feet, like that of a low-lying Bahamian island. This is why it’s called “the drowned island,” and it can’t be seen until you’re halfway to it. Even then, the first visible signs are masts poking above the horizon. Anegada’s Horseshoe Reef is the Caribbean’s largest barrier reef and the fourth largest in the world. Navigating the single, narrow, winding channel to the anchorage can be tricky; the reef has claimed hundreds of vessels over the years. We picked up a mooring and, inspired by the previous night’s discussions, spread out in search of the ultimate lobster dinner. Deb and Joanne had taken the kayak and returned with a menu from The Lobster Trap, a beachfront restaurant overlooking the anchorage. We piled into the tender to check it out.
Soon we were talking with Chef Andrea and Kisawn of The Lobster Trap, who insisted they served the very best Caribbean lobster on all of Anegada. They let us out on the dock for a look
at their lobster tank. We pulled up a basket full and made our personal selections for the evening’s feast. Later, we headed back ashore for our highly anticipated dinner. Our waterside table had been beautifully set, a large hurricane lamp at the center adorned with little lights. It was a very inviting scene, and our grilled lobsters were everything we hoped they’d be.
The Caribbean sunrise came up like a glistening watery jewel, providing a fabulous photo op at 6:30 a.m. By 8:15, we were off the mooring and on the 25-mile run to Jost Van Dyke, with the long and gentle north swell on our beam.
We rolled into White Bay at noon and picked up a mooring inside the reef at the quieter east end of the beach near Ivan’s Stress Free Bar. Suddenly, the serenity of the anchorage was shattered by a blasting stereo. Two boatloads of young, party-hearty types were piling into their tenders and racing around like rodeo cowboys. They headed to the shore, oblivious of the significant surge that was rushing up the beach, and promptly rolled the first tender over in the surf. With that, and thankfully with no injuries, the party was over. Karma. The anchorage returned to a tranquil setting for the remainder of the afternoon. Because a cruise to White Bay isn’t complete without a visit to the Soggy Dollar Bar, home of arguably the best Painkillers in the BVI, we made our way over to watch Mic the bartender build a dozen of his finest. It was poetry in motion.
Six miles to the south, Soper’s Hole on Tortola’s West End is a delightful anchorage with just enough activity to be interesting, yet it wasn’t too busy. The timing was perfect for us to hit the Rite Way market and restock Sweet Bay. West End is a good place to get off the boat, check out a couple of island shops and stretch those seafaring legs.
From there, it was onto the Indians for snorkeling, a major highlight of the trip. A series of tall, sharp rocks jutting out of the sea, the Indians are located just west of Pelican Island, not far from the Bight at Norman Island.
Day moorings located close to the rocks offer spectacular scenery above and below the water. We arrived early and snagged a primo mooring. Within minutes we were diving among some of the most beautiful coral we’d seen. Entering and exiting the water from the 443 was a piece of cake, even for a couple of old guys, thanks to a well-designed swim ladder and low, broad swim platform. Fabled to be the inspiration for Robert Louis Stevenson’s novel
Treasure Island, Norman Island has all the trappings of a pirate hangout, including a bay (the Bight) with headlands that offer excellent protection and views up and down the Sir Frances Drake Channel. The famous caves etched into west-facing cliffs that once contained treasure are now playgrounds for swimmers, snorkelers, and fish. The cannons are silent today, but a few pirates still inhabit the Bight aboard the ship William Thornton. Better known as the Willy T, this floating bar and restaurant is a must-stop for burgers and libations. We picked up a mooring nearby, but not too close, since the festivities here can get a little rowdy.
With our cruise coming to an end, we returned to base, a process that was seamless, thanks to the experienced MarineMax crew in Tortola. The 443 had carried our group of six adults for a week in comfort and style, and had offered speed when we needed it. I’m also happy to report it made converts out of four die-hard sailors who, from this day on, shall be known as motorsailers. ❒